He stepped on the self-starter, and urged the two-seater pensively down the drive. He was glad when the shrubberies hid him from the view of Doctor Twist, for one wanted to forget a fellow like that as soon as possible. A moment later, he was still gladder: for, as he turned the first corner, there popped out suddenly from a rhododendron bush a stout man with a red and streaming face. Lester Carmody had had to hurry, and he was not used to running.
"Woof!" he ejaculated, barring the fairway.
Relief flooded over Hugo. The marts of trade had not been closed after all.
"Give me those cigarettes!" panted Mr. Carmody.
For an instant Hugo toyed with the idea of creating a rising market. But he was no profiteer. Hugo Carmody, the Square Dealer.
"Ten quid," he said, "and they're yours."
Agony twisted Mr. Carmody's glowing features.
"Five," he urged.
"Ten," said Hugo.
"Eight."